V  '    '    '*,• 

'M/***** 


A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID 


BETSEY    REGARDED    HERSELF    CRITICALLY    IN    THE 
MIRROR." 


A    LOYAL   LITTLE    MAID 


BY 

EDITH    ROBINSON 

AUTHOR    OF   "FORCED   ACQUAINTANCES' 


Illustrated  by  Amy  M.  S acker 


BOSTON 

L.    C.    PAGE    AND    COMPANY 
1897 


Copyright,  i&qb 
BY  JOSEPH  KNIGHT  COMPANY 


Colonial 

C.  H.  Simonds  &.  Co.,  Boston,  Mass.,  U.  S.  A. 
Electrotyped  by  Geo.  C.  Scott  *  Sons 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

'  BETSEY  REGARDED   HERSELF  CRITICALLY  IN  THE 

MIRROR" Frontispiece 

'SHE  PAUSED  FOR  A  MOMENT"          ....  3 

•THE  OLD  DUTCH  CLOCK  IN  THE  CORNER"    .        .  20 

"YOUR  PART  OF  THE  GAME  Is  TO  BRING  HIM  TO 

THIS  ROOM  '" 28 

•HER  FINGERS  BUNGLED  SADLY  OVER  THE  CORD"  33 

'  BETSEY'S  HORSE  SPED  OVER  THE  OFT-TRAVERSED 

RIVER  ROAD  " 43 

"I  AM  AFRAID  YOUR  ANKLE  Is  SPRAINED'"         .  46 

'THE    VIEW    FROM    THE    STAIRCASE"    ....  49 

'A   CHARMING   FIGURE  APPEARED   IN   THE   DOOR- 
WAY " 67 

"HARK,  Do  You  HEAR  THAT?'"    ....  73 


2133W4 


A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID, 


I. 


BETSEY  jumped  ashore  at  the  Philipse  land- 
ing and  moored  her  canoe  to  the  stump  of  the 
old  sycamore.  Familiar  as  the  scene  was  to 
her,  she  paused  for  a  moment  to  drink  in  its 
beauty.  Opposite,  the  Palisades  arose  above 
the  bright  waters  of  the  Hudson,  their  precipi- 
tous sides,  clad  with  autumnal  foliage,  present- 
ing an  unbroken  wall  of  splendid  color,  of 
manifold  gradations,  in  the  haze  of  Indian 
summer.  On  this  side  of  the  river,  nature 
gave  place  to  painstaking  cultivation.  A  strip 
of  shingly  beach,  bordered  by  stately  yew-trees, 
merged  into  a  wide  expanse  of  velvet  lawn, 
dotted  with  rare  shrubbery.  On  the  summit 
of  its  gentle  slopes  stood  Manor  Hall,  the 
residence  of  the  Philipse  family.  Built  in  the 
Dutch  style  of  architecture,  with  galleries  and 
a  flat  balustraded  roof,  massive  half  doors 
brought  from  Holland,  and  wide,  pillared 


2  A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

porches  with  bull's-eye  lights,  it  was  esteemed 
the  finest  mansion  on  the  banks  of  the  Hudson. 
A  thrifty  apple  orchard  lay  between  the  house 
and  the  high  road  —  or  river  road,  as  it  was 
usually  called  —  that  followed  the  course  of  the 
Hudson  from  the  town  of  New  York,  seven- 
teen miles  distant,  to  the  little  Dutch  settle- 
ment of  Albany,  near  the  head  of  navigation. 

The  fortunes  of  the  Philipse  family  had  run 
in  a  high  and  unbroken  tide  since  the  days 
when  their  gracious  Majesties,  William  and 
Mary,  had  been  pleased  to  erect  the  Manor  of 
Philipsburgh,  which,  according  to  the  Royal 
Charter,  was  "to  be  holden  of  the  King,  in 
free  and  common  soccage,  its  lords  yielding, 
rendering  and  paying  therefore,  yearly  and 
every  year,  on  the  feast-day  of  the  Annuncia- 
tion of  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary,  at  the  fort  in 
New  York,  the  annual  rent  of  £4  I2s." 

In  the  years  that  followed  the  Royal  grant, 
by  purchase  and  by  marriage  with  heiresses,  so 
many  broad  acres  were  added  to  the  original 
demesne,  that  when  that  young  heir — known 
amongst  the  Dutch  as  the  Yonkheer  *  —  who 

*  For  whom  the  present  town  of  Yonkers  (Yonk-heer's)  is 
named. 


A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 


built  Manor  Hall 
came  to  his  ma- 
jority, the  estate 
equaled  in  extent 
a  prince's  realm. 
It  was  said,  indeed, 
that  increase  of 
this  domain  had 
become  a  mania 
in  the  Philipse 
family ;  certain  it 
was  that  no  gener- 
ation passed  that 
a  considerable 
"part  and  parcel " 
of  land  was  not 
added  to  the  Manor 
of  Philipsburgh. 
Yet  this  appar- 
ently unbroken 
prosperity  may 
have  had  its  flaw. 
Upon  the  comple- 
tion of  Manor  Hall 
the  Yonkheer 
gave  a  great  ban- 


4  A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

quet.  In  the  midst  of  the  merrymaking,  an 
Indian  appeared  on  the  threshold  and  spoke 
words  that,  mysterious  as  the  writing  on  the 
wall  at  Belshazzar's  feast,  was  said  to  lie  with 
terrible  foreboding  on  the  secret  heart  of  each 
and  every  descendant  of  the  Yonkheer. 

The  present  Lord  Philipse  —  or  Colonel 
Philipse,  as  he  was  usually  called  —  may  have 
been,  at  heart,  as  loyal  to  his  Majesty,  King 
George  III.,  as  was  his  ancestor,  the  recipient 
of  the  bounty  of  their  Majesties,  William  and 
Mary.  But  this  was  a  time  when  prudent  folk 
took  heed  to  their  words  and  ways ;  for  evil 
days  had  fallen  upon  the  land.  A  murmuring 
faction  had  arisen  against  the  so-called  tyran- 
nical course  of  the  Ministry  and  Parliament  ; 
and,  ere  long,  disaffection  had  made  such  prog- 
ress as  to  reach,  from  petition  and  remon- 
strance, to  an  armed  attempt  at  throwing  off 
the  allegiance  to  the  mother  country.  Al- 
though the  popular  English  belief,  as  publicly 
expressed  by  my  Lord,  the  Earl  of  Sandwich, 
was  that  "all  Yankees  are  cowards,"  the  course 
of  events  in  what  was  still,  in  British  parlance, 
the  "  insurrection,"  since  the  first  shot  was 
fired  at  Concord  Bridge  a  year  ago,  had  not 


A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  5 

borne  unvarying  testimony  to  this  opinion. 
Loyal  adherents  to  the  crown  there  undoubt- 
edly were,  who  would  have  laid  down  life  and 
fortune  in  the  royal  cause.  But  there  were 
others  who,  whatever  their  party  predilections, 
held  their  own  interests  paramount,  and  deemed 
it  wise  to  await  a  little  longer  the  progress  of 
affairs  before  declaring  themselves  openly  on 
either  side.  To  this  class  belonged  the  present 
owner  of  the  Manor  of  Philipsburgh. 

Frederick  Philipse  had  no  mind  to  have  his 
fine  house  burnt  over  his  head,  his  lands  de- 
spoiled and  himself  haled  to  the  gallows,  seated 
on  a  coffin  with  a  rope  around  his  neck  —  even 
if  the  farce  went  no  farther, —  all  of  which 
catastrophes  would  belike  befall  him  if  he  were 
convicted  by  the  British  of  any  overt  act  of 
rebel  sympathy.  While,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
leader  of  the  insurgents  was  known  to  hold  the 
Tories  —  as  those  of  Royalist  sympathies  were 
called  by  the  opposing  faction  —  in  particular 
detestation,  deeming  them  a  constant  menace 
to  the  American  cause,  and  openly  referring  to 
them  as  "abominable  pests  of  society,"  and 
"  execrable  parricides."  In  the  remote  event 
of  the  provincials  gaining  the  ascendency,  Mr. 


6  A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

Washington,  who  was  known  to  be  a  person  of 
much  decision  of  character,  would  unquestion- 
ably follow  up  this  vigorous  language  with  still 
more  forcible  action.  So  Frederick  Philipse, 
being  a  man  to  whom  temporizing  was  easy 
and  natural,  held  himself  in  a  nice  balance  be- 
tween the  contending  forces,  ready,  at  any  con- 
clusive happening,  to  drop  gently  into  the  camp 
of  either  party. 

It  looked  as  though  the  decisive  moment  had 
at  last  arrived.  The  preceding  July,  the  pro- 
vincials had  burnt  their  ships  behind  them  by  a 
formal  Declaration  of  Independence.  Repeated 
disaster  had  since  followed  their  military  oper- 
ations ;  after  meeting  with  a  signal  defeat  on 
Long  Island,  they  had  skulked  off,  under  cover 
of  the  night,  to  New  York,  where  they  were 
speedily  fallen  upon  by  the  British.  After  a 
brief  encounter  near  the  landing  on  East  River, 
known  as  Kip's  Bay,*  in  which  the  Yankees 
exhibited  all  their  expected  cowardice,  they 
were  chased  out  of  town,  their  pursuers  blowing 
their  bugles  as  on  a  fox-chase,  as  far  as  the  hill 
on  which  lay  Mr.  Murray's  farm.f  Here  the 

*  Near  the  foot  of  what  is  now  34th  Street, 
t  Now  Murray  Hill, 


A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  7 

good  lady  of  the  house  had  spread  an  elaborate 
repast  for  the  British  officers,  which  proved  so 
appetizing  that  the  pursuit  was  given  over  to 
its  enjoyment.  The  scattered  provincials  took 
refuge  among  the  hills  to  which  the  lower 
banks  of  the  Hudson  rise ;  here  the  officers 
at  last  succeeded  in  rallying  them,  and  at 
Harlem  Heights  an  entrenched  camp  was 
thrown  up,  and  the  commander-in-chief  estab- 
lished his  headquarters. 

It  chanced  that  Miss  Philipse  had  been  shut 
up  in  New  York  throughout  the  progress  of 
these  exciting  events,  having  gone  thither  on  a 
visit  before  the  tide  of  combat  reached  the 
town.  An  elder  sister  had  married  Col.  Bev- 
erly Robinson,  a  Virginian  by  birth,  and  a 
gentleman  of  wealth  and  consideration.  Susan- 
nah Robinson  had  been  dead  several  years, 
but  Miss  Philipse  kept  up  the  long  established 
custom  of  frequent  visits  to  the  hospitable 
mansion  in  the  Battery,  out  of  affectionate 
regard  for  her  sister's  children.  Of  late,  these 
visits  had  been  longer  and  more  frequent. 
Colonel  Robinson  had  openly  given  all  the 
weight  of  his  influence  to  the  Royalist  cause ; 
he  was  known  to  be  in  active  communication 


8  A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

with  the  Royalist  governor,  and  other  repre- 
sentatives of  his  Majesty,  and  his  house  was  the 
recognized  headquarters  of  the  strong  Tory 
element  in  New  York.  Miss  Philipse,  though 
cast  in  gentlest  mould,  was  regarded  as  a  per- 
son of  much  decision  of  character,  and  it  was 
no  secret  that  she  found,  in  the  Royalist  circle 
at  Colonel  Robinson's,  a  more  congenial  atmos- 
phere than  that  afforded  by  her  brother's  non- 
committal policy  at  home. 

It  was  in  eager  anticipation  of  Miss  Philipse's 
return  to  Manor  Hall  that  Betsey  Schuyler  had 
paddled  up  the  river  from  her  own  home,  some 
miles  distant,  where  she  had  been  living  in  the 
care  of  an  old  servant,  since  her  father  and 
brother  had  joined  the  Continental  Army. 

Betsey  had  just  passed  her  fourteenth  birth- 
day, but,  despite  the  disparity  of  years,  the 
friendship  between  her  and  Miss  Philipse  was 
deep  and  true,  holding,  on  the  side  of  the  latter, 
something  of  the  maternal  element  that  is  part 
of  every  good  woman's  love,  and  which,  in 
this  instance,  was  particularly  called  forth  by 
the  circumstances  of  the  girl's  motherless  life. 
Though  she  smiled  at  and  even  sometimes 
gently  chid  the  worship  of  which  she  was  the 


A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  9 

object,  she  could  not  but  be  touched  by  the 
unquestioning  faith,  and  responsive  to  an  affec- 
tion so  deep  and  true  and  wholly  unselfish  as 
scarcely  to  need  years  to  mature.  "  Miss 
Philipse  said  so,"  was,  to  Betsey,  all  sufficient 
ground  for  any  belief.  "  Miss  Philipse  could  do 
no  wrong!"  was  part  of  the  girl's  very  creed. 

The  influence  of  beauty  and  of  a  rare  mag- 
netic charm  was  felt  by  all  in  the  presence  of 
Mary  Philipse ;  but  there  was  another  reason  for 
Betsey's  loving  reverence,  beside  personal  at- 
tractions, or  even  the  tendency,  not  uncom- 
monly displayed  by  a  young  and  impressionable 
girl,  of  seeing,  in  a  woman  older  and  stronger 
than  herself,  the  very  ideal  of  womanhood. 
Betsey  had  never  read  any  fairy  tales ;  she  knew 
nothing  of  novels ;  poetry  was  an  unknown  realm 
to  her.  The  only  books  at  her  home  were  the 
Bible  and  an  old  copy  of  Fox's  "  Book  of 
Martyrs,"  and  she  could  scarcely  spell  her  way 
through  them,  for,  though  her  parents  were 
gentlefolk,  in  those  days  a  girl's  education  was 
held  of  scant  account. 

There  was  a  story  to  which,  on  some  long- 
forgotten  day,  she  had  hearkened,  that  was  at 
once  a  fairy  tale  to  the  imagination  of  the  child 


IO  A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

she  still  was  in  years,  and  a  romance  to  the 
half-wistful,  half-timid  fancy  of  the  girl  whose 
dreams  were  beginning  to  take  on  the  tinge  of 
womanhood. 

Once  upon  a  time,  many  years  ago,  there 
lived  a  princess  whose  grace  and  beauty  were 
the  theme  of  every  tongue.  Many  suitors 
sought  her  hand,  but  in  vain,  till  there  jour- 
neyed to  her  realm  the  prince  of  a  far-off 
country.  He  was  rich  and  handsome,  and  of 
gentlest  courtesy  to  high  and  low.  Even  brave 
men  spoke,  with  bated  breath,  of  a  strength 
that  was  as  the  strength  of  ten,  of  a  more  than 
mortal  valor.  A  great  ball  was  given  at  the 
royal  palace,  and  in  the  stately  steps  of  the 
first  dance  the  prince  and  princess  looked  at 
each  other  with  the  love  light  in  their  eyes. 

But  the  mission  on  which  the  prince  was 
bound  brooked  no  tarrying,  and  on  the  morrow 
he  took  leave  of  the  princess,  saying  that  in 
seven  days  he  would  come  again.  But  the 
promised  time  had  long  expired  when  he  once 
more  drew  rein  at  the  palace  gates.  It  was  to 
find  the  princess  gone !  Whence,  he  did  not 
seek  to  follow,  nor  did  he  stay  to  question  or 
parley,  but,  putting  spurs  to  his  snow-white 


A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  II 

steed,  rode  on  to  his  home  in  the  far  South,  and 
he  and  the  princess  never  met  again. 

The  princess's  name  was  Mary  Philipse. 
The  prince's  was  George  Washington. 

It  was  not  merely  that  Betsey  would  have 
shrunk  from  any  impulse  of  curiosity  regarding 
that  episode  of  her  friend's  youth,  as  from  a 
sacrilege,  —  she  did  not  want  to  know  more 
concerning  it.  The  knowledge  of  the  fairy  tale 
without  the  proper  ending,  —  "  and  they  lived 
happy  ever  after;"  of  the  sweet  beginning  of 
a  romance  that  was  never  finished,  added  the 
last  touch  of  grace  and  reverence  to  her  love 
for  her  friend.  To  have  let  in  the  light  of  day 
upon  the  precious  secret  would  have  been  to 
have  the  fairy  tale  made  real,  and  so  lose  its 
reality ;  to  have  met  the  hero  and  heroine  of 
the  romance  at  the  dinner  -  table  and  found 
them  middle-aged  people,  fat  and  bald  and 
stupid.  By  some  subtle  chord  of  sympathy 
Miss  Philipse  understood  all  this,  and  the  bond 
between  the  child  and  woman  was  the  closer 
and  finer  because  of  it. 

It  was  the  most  momentous  event  of  Betsey's 
life  when  she  met  —  nay,  actually  talked  with, 
the  fairy  prince,  the  hero  of  romance !  It  was 


12  A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

still  through  the  glamor  of  the  ideal  that  she 
beheld  him,  rather  than  in  the  harsher  light  of 
reality  —  although  he  was  become  the  most 
important  personage  in  the  Colonies  —  the 
commander -in -chief  of  the  Continental  Army. 
Happily  for  Betsey,  General  Washington  more 
than  realized  the  fondest  dreams  of  girlish 
imagination.  General  Schuyler's  house  was 
not  far  from  the  provincial  camp  at  Harlem 
Heights,  and  Philip  Schuyler,  who  had  recently 
been  appointed  to  the  command  of  General 
Washington's  body  -  guard  —  a  mounted  escort 
of  twenty  young  gentlemen  of  family  —  snatched 
a  few  minutes  from  his  duties  to  visit  his  home 
and  the  little  sister  from  whom  he  had  been 
separated  a  twelvemonth.  Yielding  to  Betsey's 
eager  pleading,  he  took  her  to  see  the  en- 
trenched camp. 

It  was  spread  out  over  a  peninsula  half  a 
mile  in  width,  that  lay  between  the  Hudson 
River  on  the  west  and  the  Harlem  River  on 
the  east.  On  three  sides  precipitous  walls 
or  pathless  crags  formed  a  natural  defence ;  the 
only  approach  was  from  the  south,  where  a 
narrow  highway  wound  up  a  steep  declivity 
known  as  Breakneck  Hill.  This  quarter  was 


A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  13 

guarded  by  three  parallel  lines  of  fortifications, 
at  the  distance  of  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile 
apart.  A  little  beyond  the  third  parallel  was 
the  big  square  house  of  Col.  Roger  Morris, 
now  occupied  by  General  Washington  and  his 
military  family.  On  the  brow  of  the  hill, 
commanding  a  wide  stretch  of  the  river,  stood 
Fort  Washington.  At  the  left  of  a  path  that 
zigzagged  from  the  landing  near  the  foot  of 
Breakneck  Hill  to  the  highway  was  a  little 
spring,  that  had  been  a  favorite  haunt  of 
Betsey's  in  more  peaceful  times.  Its  margin 
was  now  trampled  and  muddy,  and  the  grass 
worn  away  for  many  feet  around.  It  was  here 
she  stood  and  looked  with  absorbing  interest 
upon  the  strange  scene  into  which  war  had 
converted  the  familiar  rocky  meadows  of  the 
Jumel  place. 

It  was  a  motley  settlement  stretched  out 
behind  the  fortifications,  consisting  of  almost 
every  imaginable  kind  of  rude  shelter  that 
could  be  thrown  up  to  serve  as  protection 
against  the  autumn  winds  that  already  swept 
keenly  over  the  exposed  plains.  Some  of  the 
huts  were  constructed  of  boards  or  sail-cloth,  or 
partly  of  both  ;  others  were  of  stone  or  turf,  or 


14  A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

of  birch  or  other  brush.  Most  of  them  had 
evidently  been  put  together  in  a  careless  hurry, 
but  here  and  there  was  one  whose  construction 
evinced  considerable  skill,  boasting  doors  and 
windows  elaborately  woven  out  of  withes  and 
reeds.  A  few  men  were  lounging  about  the 
settlement,  smoking  or  playing  cards,  but  the 
greater  number  were  at  work  upon  the  ditches 
or  abatis.  None  of  the  soldiers  wore  what 
could  properly  be  called  a  uniform,  and  no 
considerable  number  were  dressed  alike.  Men 
with  lean,  sinewy  figures  and  shrewd  faces, 
bronzed  to  the  color  of  mahogany,  wore  check 
shirts  and  breeches  of  homespun.  The  plain 
tight  -  fitting  blue  coats  of  the  New  England 
farmers,  with  their  hats  decorated  with  a  turkey- 
cock  feather,*  the  parting  gift  of  some  Yankee 
sweetheart,  mingled  with  the  white  frocks  and 
round  hats  of  the  men  from  Maryland  and 
Pennsylvania.  But  what  especially  attracted 
Betsey's  attention  was  a  number  of  tall  men  — 
she  had  never  before  seen  such  an  assemblage 
of  men  of  extraordinary  height  —  clad  in  ash- 
colored  shirts,  with  double  capes  ornamented 

•Whence  Yankee  Doodle, — 

"  Stuck  a  feather  in  his  hat." 


A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  1 5 

with  fringe,  that  reached  to  the  middle  of  the 
thigh ;  fringed  leggins  and  gay  moccasins  com- 
pleted the  picturesque  attire. 

All  at  once  she  saw  a  tall  man  —  taller  than 
any  of  the  Virginia  riflemen  —  who  was  silently 
watching  the  men  at  work  with  the  spades  and 
pickaxes.  No  need  to  question  who  he  was, 
there  could  be  no  mistaking  General  Washing- 
ton, even  by  one  who  had  never  seen  him  be- 
fore. Nevertheless,  Betsey  tightened  her  clasp 
of  her  brother's  hand  and  whispered : 

"Is  it  General  Washington?" 

"  Yes,  it  is  his  Excellency,"  answered  Philip, 
in  a  low  voice,  saluting  General  Washington, 
who  just  then  glanced  in  their  direction. 

He  approached  with  a  firm,  graceful  step, 
force  and  dignity  in  each  line  of  the  stately  fig- 
ure and  handsome  bronzed  face,  and  Betsey 
had  time  to  note  every  detail  of  his  appearance. 
He  wore  a  blue  coat,  with  buff-colored  facings, 
and  two  brilliant  epaulettes  ;  buff-colored  small- 
clothes and  a  three-cornered  hat,  with  a  black 
cockade,  completed  his  attire.  An  elegant 
small  sword  was  by  his  side,  and  boots  and 
spurs  showed  him  ready,  at  a  moment's  warn- 
ing, to  mount  his  charger.  His  hair,  powdered 


1 6  A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

and  turned  back  from  his  forehead,  was  tied 
with  a  black  ribbon.  He  had  a  strong,  but 
mobile  mouth,  the  lips  slightly  compressed, 
and  earnest,  far-seeing  eyes  —  to  which  sleep 
was  evidently  a  stranger  —  in  whose  gray-blue 
depths  was  an  expression  of  resignation,  almost 
of  sadness. 

He  looked  down  upon  the  young  girl  with 
kindly  scrutiny. 

"Whom  have  we  here?"  he  asked,  and,  with 
the  gentle  courtesy  of  his  tone,  Betsey's  clasp 
of  her  brother's  hand  relaxed.  Reverence,  even 
to  awe,  she  would  always  feel  in  the  presence 
of  General  Washington,  but  not  fear. 

"Betsey  Schuyler,  your  Excellency,"  she 
answered,  and  dropped  a  curtsy. 

"  And  a  loyal  little  maid,  I  make  no  doubt. 
Your  father  and  your  brother  would  answer 
for  that,  even  if  those  blue  eyes  did  not  tell 
their  own  tale,"  he  said,  with  a  bow  in  which 
courtly  grace  blended  with  soldierly  dignity. 
Then,  with  a  smile  whose  memory  lingered  like 
a  benediction,  he  walked  on  toward  the  outer 
line  of  fortifications,  and  the  child's  eyes, 
blinded  with  unconscious  tears,  followed  him 
till  he  was  out  of  sight. 


A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  I/ 

Ardent  little  patriot  as  Betsey  had  heretofore 
been,  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that,  after  that 
memorable  meeting,  she  would  gladly  have  died 
for  her  country  or  for  General  Washington,  she 
could  not  have  told  which.  Somehow,  in  her 
crude,  childish  understanding,  the  one  seemed 
to  stand  for  the  other. 


II. 


As  Betsey  now  hastened  across  the  lawn, 
toward  Manor  Hall,  her  eager  eyes  were  fas- 
tened upon  the  centre  window  in  the  upper  tier 
of  small  paned  casements.  There  it  was  Miss 
Philipse's  habit  to  muse,  gazing  on  the  broad 
stretch  of  water  and  woodland.  But  no  sweet, 
fair  face  and  welcoming  wave  of  the  hand 
greeted  Betsey  to-day. 

She  passed  around  the  house,  and  entered 
by  the  front  porch.  Through  the  closed  door 
of  the  drawing-room,  on  the  left  of  the  entrance, 
came  the  murmur  of  voices,  and  she  paused 
with  mingled  hesitation  at  interrupting  a  con- 
versation and  childish  diffidence  of  strangers. 
The  door  on  the  opposite  side,  of  the  hall  was 
open,  and,  after  a  moment's  hesitation,  she  en- 
tered the  dining-room,  and  seated  herself  in  the 
deep  embrasure  of  the  window.  Presently  the 
drawing-room  door  opened,  and  the  murmur 
resolved  into  the  voices  of  two  men.  One  was 
that  of  Colonel  Philipse ;  as  Betsey  recognized 


A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  19 

that  of  the  other,  she  sprang  from  the  window- 
seat  into  the  middle  of  the  room,  and  looked 
wildly  about  for  some  chance  of  escape. 

Col.  Roger  Morris,  the  owner  of  the  great 
Jumel  place,  was  a  familiar  figure  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, and  had  been  a  frequent  visitor  at 
Betsey's  home,  till  the  outbreak  of  the  war 
enlisted  his  sympathies  and  those  of  General 
Schuyler  on  opposite  sides  of  the  struggle.  For 
no  reason  of  which  she  could  give  a  rational 
account,  he  had  inspired  Betsey,  from  her  very 
babyhood,  with  a  vague,  but  awful  terror,  which 
his  grotesque  ugliness  of  form  and  feature  was 
inadequate  to  explain.  This  instinctive  antipa- 
thy had  not  lessened  with  years,  so  that  even 
now,  "grown  up"  though  she  was,  she  could 
not  look  upon  Colonel  Morris's  stout,  square 
figure,  with  the  bowed  legs  and  bull  neck,  the 
fiery  face  and  protuberant  eyes,  without  being 
overwhelmed  as  with  the  terror  of  the  nursery 
bugaboo.  The  present  emergency  had  come 
upon  her  too  suddenly  for  her  to  restrain  the 
old  wild  impulse  of  flight. 

But  which  way  to  flee  ?  By  the  one  door, 
she  would  fling  herself  into  the  very  arms  of 
Colonel  Morris ;  by  the  other,  that  connected 


2O 


A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 


with  the  kitchen,  she  must  run  against  the  ser- 
vant, whose  footsteps  were  already  heard  in  the 
passage.  It  was  over  in  an  instant  —  the  blind 
terror,  the  wild  leap,  the  flash  of  thought,  and 
a  plunge  toward  the  old  Dutch  clock  in  the 


corner.  Its  case  was  large  enough  to  conceal 
a  slender  girl.  Pushing  aside  the  heavy  leaden 
weights,  Betsey  whisked  inside  and  drew  the 
door  after  her  —  not  a  moment  too  soon. 

The  conversation  between  the  two  gentlemen 
was  upon  indifferent  topics,  till  the  servant  left 


A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  21 

the  room.  Then  Colonel  Morris,  apparently 
resuming  a  discussion  of  absorbing  interest, 
said,  in  lowered  tones  and  with  an  involuntary 
glance  about  the  apartment : 

"  You  are  sure  that  the  passage  is  unob- 
structed ?  If  it  has  not  been  used  since  the 
days  of  the  Yonkheer,  there  might  be  danger 
from  foul  air." 

"  I  have  examined  it  myself,"  answered 
Colonel  Philipse,  in  an  evident  sulky  tone. 
"  It  is  in  as  good  condition  as  when  it  was 
excavated." 

"  I  suppose  the  original  idea  of  a  subter- 
ranean passage  was  to  provide  a  means  of 
escape  against  an  attack  of  the  Indians  ?  "  sug- 
gested Colonel  Morris. 

Philipse  briefly  assented. 

"  The  wisdom  of  your  ancestor  was  yours 
in  providing  against  a  like  danger  from  —  the 
rebels,"  went  on  the  other,  in  a  significant  tone. 
"  So  prominent  and  uncompromising  a  Royalist 
as  Colonel  Philipse  is  necessarily  exposed  to 
the  ill  will  of  the  insurgents." 

"  I  should  not  have  told  you  of  the  passage 
if  I  had  not  been  on  your  side,"  returned 
Philipse,  with  a  furtively  resentful  air. 


22  A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

"We  do  not  doubt  your  good-will,"  rejoined 
Colonel  Morris,  "  although  I  must  confess  that 
I  was  somewhat  under  the  impression  that  it 
was  by  a  fortunate  slip  that  I  learnt  of  this 
passage,  of  whose  existence  you  and  your  sister 
were  the  only  living  persons  cognizant.  We 
are  showing  our  reliance  upon  your  loyalty  in 
the  most  conclusive  manner  by  depending  upon 
your  cooperation  in  this  scheme."  He  spoke 
in  the  bluff  tones  that  were  generally  regarded 
as  the  exponent  of  a  rugged  honesty  and 
blunt  good-will.  But  there  were  those  who, 
having  in  some  wise  given  offence  to  Roger 
Morris,  had  lived  to  hold  a  different  opinion  of 
what  that  open  manner  covered.  "  Besides," 
he  went  on,  "  any  doubts  that  you  have  naturally 
felt  as  to  the  expediency  of  showing  your  hand 
may  well  be  set  at  rest  by  recent  events.  The 
rebels  are  disheartened  by  defeat.  All  their 
heavy  artillery  was  left  behind  in  the  flight  from 
New  York ;  they  are  without  military  stores  for 
offensive  operations,  or  camp  supplies  to  lie 
long  upon  the  defensive.  Local  jealousies  dis- 
tract the  rabble  they  call  their  army ;  its  two 
best  regiments  —  the  Marblehead  fishermen 
and  Morgan's  Virginia  riflemen — are  in  con- 


A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  23 

stant  broils.  Now  is  the  time  to  strike  a 
decisive  blow.  The  insurrection  is  stamped  out 
once  we  have  laid  our  hands  upon  its  backbone, 
George  Washington.  Ha  !  what  was  that  ?  " 
Colonel  Morris  started,  and  threw  a  glance  over 
his  shoulder  in  the  direction  of  the  clock. 

"  I  heard  nothing  —  a  mouse  behind  the 
wainscoting,  perhaps." 

"  He  is  as  superbly  handsome  now  as  when 
a  boy,"  went  on  Morris,  in  a  tone  of  strange 
discontent.  "  One  could  see,  as  he  sat  his 
horse,  that  he  was  straight  as  an  Indian."  He 
glanced,  perhaps  unthinkingly,  at  his  own  bowed 
legs. 

"  Where  did  you  see  him  ? " 

"  In  the  recent  encounter.  Washington, 
hearing  the  firing,  galloped  to  Kip's  Bay.  He 
was  just  in  time  to  see  two  regiments  of  the 
provincials,  without  having  fired  a  shot,  flying 
before  sixty  or  seventy  of  the  British.  He  was 
beside  himself  at  their  cowardice  ;  never  did  I 
see  a  man  in  such  a  towering  rage.  Regardless 
of  the  bullets  that  were  whistling  around  him, 
he  stood  alone  within  eighty  yards  of  the 
enemy,  threatening  the  fugitives  with  sword 
and  pistol,  till  one  of  his  officers  seized  the 


24  A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

bridle  of  his  horse  and  dragged  him  from  the 
field.  Egad,  whatever  else  may  be  said  of 
George  Washington,  he  is  no  coward  !  "  wound 
up  Colonel  Morris,  with  soldierly  enthusiasm. 
Perhaps,  if  Roger  Morris  had  been  a  handsome 
man,  he  would  have  been  a  better  man. 

"  You  are  old  friends,  are  you  not  ? "  queried 
Frederick  Philipse. 

"Old  —  friends,"  assented  the  other,  in  his 
bluffest  tones.  "  We  served  together  on  Gen- 
eral Braddock's  staff,  in  the  French  and  Indian 
campaign.  His  appearance  at  Kip's  Bay,  de- 
spite the  inevitable  changes  of  years,  recalled 
the  last  time  I  saw  him,  on  that  awful  day  of 
Braddock's  defeat.  We  had  fallen  into  the  am- 
bush on  the  Monongahela ;  the  regulars  were 
flying  in  every  direction ;  men  were  being 
slaughtered  like  sheep.  Washington,  heedless 
that  he  was  the  target  of  all  the  best  marksmen 
among  those  howling  fiends,  that  his  coat  was 
riddled  with  bullets,  and  two  horses  had  been 
shot  from  under  him,  refused  to  take  to  cover, 
lest  his  example  unnerve  his  men,  and  towered 
through  the  smoke,  the  very  incarnation  of 
physical  power.  Seizing  a  field-piece  as  though 
it  were  a  fagot,  he  brought  it  to  bear  on  a  body 


A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  25 

of  French  and  Indians,  and  so,  giving  a  momen- 
tary check  to  the  attack,  enabled  us  to  beat  a 
disorganized  retreat.  Not  one  of  us  would  have 
been  alive  to  tell  the  tale  if  it  had  not  been  for 
George  Washington !  " 

"  My  recollections  of  him,  though  dating  at 
about  the  same  time,  are  of  a  widely  different 
character,"  observed  Philipse.  "  On  his  sub- 
sequent journey  to  Massachusetts  to  hold  con- 
ference with  Governor  Shirley  regarding  the 
military  precedence,  he  tarried  over  night  in 
New  York,  and  Beverly  Robinson,  who  was 
an  old  friend  and  schoolmate,  gave  a  ball  in  his 
honor.  The  following  morning,  the  young  Vir- 
ginian resumed  his  journey  northward.  As  the 
gay  little  cavalcade  clattered  along  the  Battery, 
the  company  at  Beverly's  flocked  to  the  gallery, 
to  call  good  speed  and  fling  flowers  to  the 
departing  guests.  A  rose  —  I  know  not  from 
whose  hand  it  fell  —  Washington  deftly  caught, 
and  pressed  to  his  lips.  He  rode  a  little  in 
advance  of  the  others,  on  a  magnificent  white 
charger,  dressed  in  a  uniform  of  blue  and  buff, 
with  a  scarlet  and  white  cloak  flung  over  his 
shoulder,  and  a  sword  knot  of  scarlet  and  gold 
at  his  side.  As  he  passed  out  of  sight,  he 


26  A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

waved  his  hand  to  us  —  the  hand  still  holding 
the  rose  ;  and  so  I  have  ever  borne  him  in  mem- 
ory. A  gallant  figure,  truly,  that  might  well 
have  been  potent  in  love  as  in  war  !  " 

"  Where  is  the  outlet  of  the  passage  ?  "  asked 
Colonel  Morris,  abruptly,  apparently  wearied  of 
reminiscence. 

"There  are  two  outlets,"  answered  Philipse, 
with  greater  readiness  of  tone,  perhaps  con- 
vinced by  his  companion's  representations  of 
the  policy  of  the  course  to  which  he  had  acci- 
dentally committed  himself.  "The  Yonkheer 
provided  a  means  of  escape  by  both  water  and 
land.  The  outlet  at  the  river  end  is  not  far 
from  the  stump  of  an  old  sycamore-tree,  a  few 
feet  up  the  bank,  concealed  by  bushes.  Mid- 
way of  the  main  passage  a  branch  strikes  off 
to  the  left ;  it  had  its  exit  originally  between 
the  roots  of  a  large  oak.  When  the  ground 
was  cleared  for  St.  John's  Church,  although 
no  further  danger  menaced  from  the  Indians, 
it  was  deemed  expedient  not  to  block  up  the 
passage.  A  flight  of  steps  was  accordingly 
built  into  the  masonry  of  the  church,  leading 
to  a  sliding  panel  in  the  sacristry." 

"  How  is  the  passage  reached  from  the 
house  ? " 


A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  2? 

"  From  the  clock  yonder.  The  back  of  the 
case  gives  way  on  touching  a  spring  —  ap- 
parently a  screw  —  in  the  upper  left  -  hand 
corner." 

"  Good  !  Nothing  could  be  better  for  our 
purpose.  It  was  most  opportune  that  Mr. 
Washington  should  desire  to  pay  his  respects 
to  the  sister  of  his  old  friend,  and  truly  amiable 
of  Miss  Philipse  that  she  should  consent  to 
receive  him  this  afternoon.  I  will  arrange  to 
have  Conly  and  half  a  dozen  men  on  hand. 
The  river  road  is  in  the  possession  of  the  pro- 
vincials, but,  by  taking  the  inside  road  from 
New  York,  and  striking  across  the  wooded 
meadows  by  the  Sawmill  River,  Conly  can 
reach  the  church,  and  so  gain  the  passage 
without  danger  of  discovery." 

"  Will  six  men  be  enough  ? "  demurred  Phil- 
ipse. "They  tell  prodigious  stories  of  Wash- 
ington's strength." 

"Call  it  ten,  if  you  like,"  rejoined  Morris, 
impatiently.  "  Your  part  of  the  game  is  to 
bring  him  to  this  room.  That  is  easily  man- 
aged, as  you  will  naturally  wish  to  offer  wine 
before  his  departure.  Conly  will  be  at  the 
aperture  yonder  at  sharp  five  of  the  clock. 


28 


A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 


Let    the    signal    for    his    appearance    be    his 
Majesty's  health.     The  trap  cannot  fail." 

"  You  know  the  old  Indian  prophecy,"  said 
Colonel  Philipse,  thoughtfully,  "  '  He  was  not 
made  to  be  killed  by  a  bullet.' " 


"  There  are  missives  more  unerring  than  a 
bullet,  more  silent  than  the  knife,"  responded 
Morris,  sententiously.  "  Mr.  Washington  will 
be  placed  in  safe  quarters  in  the  Jersey,  in 
Wallabout  Bay.  Let  us  hope  that  his  gal- 
lant figure  and  potent  charm  of  manner  will 


A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  29 

not  suffer  from  confinement  in  the  prison 
ship." 

The  conversation  ceased  as  the  servant  en- 
tered to  remove  the  soup. 

"You  are  expecting  Miss  Philipse's  return?" 
queried  Colonel  Morris,  with  a  courteous  display 
of  interest. 

"She  will  be  here  soon,"  answered  Philipse, 
glancing  mechanically  at  the  clock.  "  Why,  it 
has  stopped!"  he  exclaimed,  and,  rising,  walked 
toward  the  timepiece. 


III. 


FOLLOWING  the  other's  motion,  Colonel  Mor- 
ris turned  and  glanced  over  his  shoulder ;  in 
so  doing  he  thrust  out  his  foot,  over  which 
the  servant  stumbled  and  fell  headlong.  The 
dishes  crashed  upon  the  floor,  and  some  of 
the  soup  was  scattered  over  Colonel  Morris's 
breeches.  In  the  mishap  and  its  apologies,  the 
attention  of  both  host  and  guest  was  diverted 
from  the  errant  timepiece.  The  dinner  pro- 
gressed in  silence,  both  gentlemen  apparently 
absorbed  in  their  own  thoughts. 

Stiff  from  standing  so  long  in  one  position, 
the  imminent  peril  of  discovery  had  made  Betsey 
almost  insensible  with  fright ;  but,  as  soon  as 
the  immediate  danger  was  averted,  physical 
and  mental  discomfort  were  forgotten  in  the 
face  of  the  awful  danger  that  menaced  General 
Washington. 

She  must  save  him  ! 

But  the  very  intensity  of  the  thought  para- 
lyzed further  conception,  and  for  a  few  moments 
30 


A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  3! 

she  stood  inanimate  as  a  mummy  in  its  case. 
Then  her  brain  slowly  cleared,  and  calmly  and 
collectedly  she  reviewed  the  situation  in  all  its 
bearings. 

Until  recently  Betsey  had  been  a  child,  her 
healthful,  out-of-door  life  tending  to  check  a 
precocious  mental  development.  But  the  stirring 
events  of  the  past  year,  the  ever-present  thought 
of  the  danger  to  which  her  father  and  brother 
were  exposed,  and  the  sense  of  responsibility 
that  was  developed,  unconsciously,  in  the  ab- 
sence of  those  under  whose  guidance  her  years 
would  naturally  have  placed  her,  —  all  these 
influences  tended  to  produce  a  rapid  growth  of 
character,  so  that,  suddenly  confronted  by  an 
awful  responsibility,  she  was  capable  of  a  matu- 
rity of  judgment  and  nicety  of  execution  that 
were  beyond  her  years. 

Her  first  and  natural  impulse  was  to  inter- 
cept General  Washington  on  the  river  road, 
which  he  would  undoubtedly  follow  from  Har- 
lem Heights.  But  the  next  breath  showed  her 
that  it  would  be  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to 
emerge  from  her  present  hiding-place,  leave  the 
house  and  gain  the  river  road,  without  detec- 
tion, and  she  must  risk  no  encounter  with 


32  A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

Colonel  Morris ;  for,  aside  from  her  childish  and 
unreasoning  terror,  she  instinctively  felt  that 
those  bulging  eyes,  fixed  upon  her  guilty  face, 
would  at  once  read  her  cognizance  of  the  deadly 
plot.  The  only  feasible  plan  would  be  to  follow 
the  subterranean  passage  to  the  river  and  pad- 
dle with  all  speed  to  Harlem  Heights.  General 
Washington  would  not,  in  all  probability,  leave 
the  camp  before  three  o'clock ;  as  nearly  as  she 
could  judge,  it  was  now  a  little  past  noon. 
Expert  at  paddling  as  she  was,  she  could  cover 
the  distance  to  the  encampment  in  two  hours. 
There  would  therefore  be  ample  time,  and  even 
a  considerable  margin,  in  which  to  convey  the 
warning ;  and  she  drew  a  long  breath  of  relief 
as  she  saw  the  way  grow  clear  before  her. 

The  gentlemen  left  the  room  at  last ;  very 
cautiously,  Betsey  felt  for  the  spring  ;  the  back 
of  the  clock  slid  noiselessly  back,  revealing,  in 
the  light  that  straggled  in  through  the  chinks 
of  the  case,  a  narrow  staircase  built  into  the 
solid  walls  of  the  house  ;  carefully  closing  the 
door,  and  with  an  awful  thought  of  the  mice 
that  swarmed  behind  the  wainscoting,  she 
plunged  into  the  darkness  below.  Even  after 
her  eyes  had  become  accustomed  to  the  dim 


A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 


33 


light  of  the  passage  —  there  were  apertures  over- 
head, concealed  by  the  shrubbery  on  the  lawn  — 
the  inequalities  of  the  pathway  obliged  her  to 
grope  her  way.  At  last  she  reached  the  outlet, 
and,  by  the  aid  of  the  bushes,  scrambled  down 


the  bank  to  the  sycamore  stump ;  her  ringers, 
clumsy  with  haste,  and  chilled  from  contact 
with  the  damp  walls  of  the  passage,  bungled 
sadly  over  the  cord  that  secured  the  canoe. 
Even  after  she  was  fairly  afloat,  further  uncon- 
sidered  delay  tortured  her.  The  tide,  strongly 


34  A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

felt  for  many  miles  above  the  mouth  of  the 
Hudson,  had  turned,  and,  although  Betsey  kept 
her  light  craft  in  the  comparatively  still  water 
near  the  bank  of  the  stream,  it  was  impossible 
to  make  rapid  headway.  More  than  once  she 
would  have  laid  down  the  paddle  in  weariness 
and  despair,  had  not  the  thought  of  the  peril 
that  she  only  could  avert  nerved  her  to  fresh 
effort.  But,  in  spite  of  her  utmost  endeavor, 
the  accumulated  delays  consumed  the  time  with 
frightful  rapidity,  so  that  when  she  reached 
Spuyten  Duyvil,  as  the  confluence  of  the  Hud- 
son and  Harlem  Rivers  was  called,  the  clock  in 
the  neighboring  hamlet  of  Kingsbridge  struck 
three.  And  there  were  still  two  miles  before 
her! 

At  last  the  canoe  shot  toward  the  landing  by 
the  camp. 

"  Who  goes  there  ?  "  challenged  the  sentinel. 

"  I  am  Captain  Schuyler's  sister.  Take  me 
to  him,"  panted  Betsey. 

She  told  her  tale  as  briefly  as  possible. 
Beneath  the  tan  of  a  year  in  camp,  Philip 
Schuyler  turned  white. 

"He  has  gone  —  and  unattended!  The  devil 
himself  could  n't  overtake  his  Excellency  on  his 


A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  35 

white  charger,"  muttered  the  young  captain  of 
the  body-guard.  "  Come  with  me  to  Colonel 
Hamilton." 

He  led  the  way  toward  the  Morris  Mansion, 
and  Betsey  was  ushered  into  its  former  draw- 
ing-room. At  a  table  in  the  centre  of  the  apart- 
ment sat  a  boy,  writing.  He  may  have  been  a 
few  years  Betsey's  senior,  but  he  was  not  so 
tall  by  several  inches,  and  his  slight,  delicate 
frame,  and  a  face  which,  though  keen  and  alert, 
had  not  lost  the  roundness  of  its  early  years, 
added  to  the  impression  of  extreme  youth.  A 
pair  of  deep-set  dark  eyes  was  fixed  upon  the 
unexpected  visitor,  and  then  the  boy  threw  back 
his  beautifully  shaped  head,  and  broke  into  a 
peal  of  apparently  irresistible  laughter. 

Betsey  flushed  hotly  as  a  sudden  vivid  picture 
of  her  appearance  arose  before  her.  Her  pretty 
chintz  frock  —  no  longer  recognizable  —  hung 
in  tattered  and  bedraggled  folds  that  slapped,  at 
every  movement,  about  her  ankles  ;  her  hat  had 
been  somewhere  left  behind  on  her  late  journey, 
and,  as  she  impatiently  brushed  her  disheveled 
hair  from  out  her  eyes,  her  face,  dripping  with 
exertion,  had  become  grotesquely  streaked  and 
stained  with  the  soil  with  which  her  hands  were 
encrusted. 


36  A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

"  My  sister,"  announced  Captain  Schuyler, 
stiffly  ;  and,  turning  to  Betsey,  "  Colonel 
Hamilton,"  he  added,  with  pointed  formality. 

"  I  crave  your  pardon,"  said  Colonel  Hamil- 
ton, instantly  grave,  and,  with  a  low  bow,  placed 
a  chair  for  his  visitor.  Betsey  struggled  to 
grasp  the  fact  that  this  handsome,  rude  boy 
was  General  Washington's  confidential  secre- 
tary and  first  aid-de-camp.  As  her  brother 
briefly  rehearsed  the  story,  Colonel  Hamilton 
listened  in  silence,  his  close  -  set  mouth  grow- 
ing more  compressed.  At  the  mention  of  the 
prison  ship,  a  fire  came  into  the  magnificent 
eyes  that  transfigured  the  whole  mobile  face. 

"Good  God;  I  saw  one  of  those  floating 
hells  at  the  West  Indies  ! "  he  cried.  "  The 
prisoners  were  packed,  like  herrings,  into  a 
filthy  oven  in  the  hold  of  the  vessel,  without 
decent  food,  or  water  that  was  fit  to  drink, 
denied  even  the  means  of  the  commonest 
decency.  The  poor  wretches,  cursing,  in  a 
breath,  heaven  and  their  hellish  masters,  crip- 
pled and  distorted  with  rheumatism,  and  rotting 
with  putrid  fever  out  of  all  semblance  to 
humanity,  went  raving  mad,  or  became  drivel- 
ing idiots  before  death  at  last  released  them 


A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  37 

from  their  sufferings.  General  Washington!" 
He  shuddered  and  put  his  hands  before  his 
eyes. 

Only  for  an  instant  did  emotion  overmaster. 
Stepping  to  a  topographical  map  that  hung  on 
the  wall, — 

"  You  know  the  country  ?  "  he  queried. 

"  Every  inch,"  answered  Captain  Schuyler, 
promptly. 

"There  are  woods  in  front  of  the  Philipse 
house  ? " 

"An  orchard." 

Hamilton  went  on  in  rapid  direction. 

"  Detail  Morgan  and  a  squad  of  his  riflemen. 
He  is  to  dispose  of  them  in  the  orchard  ;  they 
have  learnt  the  Indian  art  of  making  themselves 
invisible,  and  the  British  stand  in  wholesome 
awe  of  their  skill  as  marksmen.  Instruct 
Morgan  that  when  his  Excellency  displays  his 
handkerchief  at  the  window,  instantly  to  throw 
himself  upon  the  house.  Bid  him  have  a  care 
not  to  precipitate  matters.  The  evident  aim  of 
the  conspirators  is  to  secure  General  Washing- 
ton alive,  but  they  will  not  lightly  let  him  slip 
through  their  fingers.  Conly's  name,  alone, 
stamps  the  character  of  the  plot ;  he  was  one 


38  A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

of  Brewer's  men,  who,  by  a  miracle,  escaped 
the  fate  of  his  mates  when  they  were  hanged  at 
Jamaica  for  their  atrocious  crimes,  of  which 
piracy  was  the  least,"  concluded  the  young 
West  Indian.  "  Report  for  further  orders." 

Captain  Schuyler  saluted  and  left  the  room. 

"  Your  brother  will  mount  you  to  your 
home,"  Hamilton  went  on,  turning  to  Betsey. 
"Then  saddle  your  own  horse  and  ride  on  to 
Manor  Hall.  At  this  juncture,  you  are  the 
only  person  who  can  effect  entrance  without 
exciting  suspicion.  Get  his  Excellency's  ear. 
Say  to  him  —  unseen,  hark  you  —  that  if  he 
hears  proposed  the  health  of  the  King,  instantly 
to  display  his  handkerchief  at  the  window. 
Remember,  it  is  General  Washington's  life,  the 
fate  of  the  country  itself,  that  hangs  in  the 
balance,  and  depends  upon  your  prompt  and 
discreet  action.  Can  we  rely  upon  you  ? " 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  girl,  and  all  her  love 
for  her  friend  seemed  compressed  into  the 
word.  To  save  General  Washington  was  to 
save  him  for  Miss  Philipse.  That  had  been  the 
guiding  thought  throughout  the  intense  strain 
of  the  past  few  hours,  and  its  inspiration  now 
strung  her  aching  limbs  and  over -wrought 


A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  39 

nerves  to  renewed  effort.  "  I  will  tell  Miss 
Philipse,"  she  added,  confidently. 

Hamilton  started,  and  in  his  most  imperious 
tones  cried : 

"  On  your  life,  no !  Miss  Philipse  is  at  the 
bottom  of  the  affair  !  " 

"  She  knows  nothing  of  it !  "  exclaimed  the 
girl,  angrily.  "  Why,  she  has  been  away  from 
home  ever  since  Colonel  Morris  has  been 
there." 

"Exactly;  at  Col.  Beverly  Robinson's,"  re- 
joined Hamilton,  calmly. 

"  I  don't  believe  it  ?  You  don't  know  her. 
You  have  no  right  to  say  such  a  thing !  "  cried 
the  girl,  in  a  passionate,  incoherent  outburst. 
"  Miss  Philipse  could  do  no  wrong  ! " 

With  his  burning  eyes  holding  the  girl  in 
spite  of  herself,  Hamilton,  with  the  grasp  and 
succinctness  of  the  born  lawyer,  summed  up  his 
terrible  indictment. 

"  The  Tories  are  the  most  implacable  and 
virulent  of  our  enemies.  Miss  Philipse's  Tory 
sympathies  are  well  known.  She  is  in  constant 
communication  with  Colonel  Robinson,  whose 
house  is  the  headquarters  of  the  Tory  element. 
It  is  by  her  appointment  that  General  Washing- 


4O  A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

ton  visits  Manor  Hall  this  afternoon.  I  have 
heard  mention  of  an  old  love  affair  between  her 
and  his  Excellency,  in  which,  if  report  has  not 
garbled,  the  lady  had  some  reason  to  hold 
herself  slighted. 

" '  Hell  knows  no  fury  like  a  woman 
scorned,'  "  quoted  Hamilton,  who  had  the  repu- 
tation of  being  a  scholar.  "  Moreover,"  he 
added,  in  his  crisp,  concise  tones,  "if  the  end 
were  merely  to  crush  the  provincial  cause,  the 
ignominy  of  the  gallows  would  supply  the  most 
effective  means.  A  knowledge  of  women 
readily  instructs  that  to  destroy  an  enemy's 
good  looks  is  essentially  a  woman's  revenge," 
he  concluded,  with  a  touch  of  youthful  brag- 
gadocio that  would  have  been  amusing  under 
less  serious  circumstances. 

Captain  Schuyler  returned  with  the  report 
that  Morgan  and  his  men,  in  their  saddles  in 
instant  obedience  to  their  leader's  "turkey- 
call  "  summons,  were  already  on  the  road. 
Betsey  left  the  room  with  her  brother. 

"  What  a  hateful,  horrid  boy!  "  she  exclaimed, 
before  the  door  had  hardly  closed  behind  them. 

"  Every  one  either  loves  or  hates  Alexander 
Hamilton,"  returned  Captain  Schuyler. 


A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  4! 

"Well,  I  hate  him,"  cried  the  girl,  with  a 
vehemence  that  was  unheedful  of  the  near 
presence  of  the  object  of  her  dislike. 

Never  had  Betsey's  horse  sped  over  the  oft- 
traversed  river  road  at  such  a  pace.  Only 
once  did  his  mistress  draw  rein.  As  she  neared 
Kingsbridge,  three  men  suddenly  scrambled 
down  the  bank,  where  they  had  been  con- 
cealed behind  a  thicket,  playing  cards,  and  held 
her  up.  They  proved  to  belong  to  a  body  of 
the  neighboring  country  folk,  recently  banded 
together  under  the  leadership  of  John  Paulding, 
an  old  farmer  of  Tarrytown,  for  the  purpose  of 
waging  a  kind  of  independent  warfare  against 
the  British  marauders  known  as  "cowboys,"  who 
infested  the  lower  stretch  of  river  road,  har- 
assing the  inhabitants  and  carrying  aid  and 
comfort  to  the  British  troops  in  New  York. 
As  one  of  the  men,  David  Williams  by  name, 
was  a  tenant  on  the  Manor  of  Philipsburgh,  and 
well  known  to  Betsey,  she  was  speedily  on  her 
way  again,  with  the  cheery  words, — 

"  We  only  stop  bad  people.  A  pleasant  ride 
to  you,  Miss  Betsey,  and  my  respects  to  Miss 
Philipse  !  " 

In  former  times,  there  had  been  many  mar- 


42  A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

riages  between  the  English  officers  stationed  at 
New  York, —  one  of  the  most  important  military 
posts  in  the  colonies, —  and  the  fair  Colonial 
dames,  and  these  alliances  were  the  paramount 
reason  of  the  present  strong  Tory  influence  in 
the  town.  At  the  beginning  of  the  struggle,  it 
was  inevitable  that  there  should  result  much 
heartburning  when,  as  often  happened,  the  in- 
terests of  kith  and  kin,  or  the  ofttimes  far 
stronger  bonds  of  friendship,  pulled  in  one  direc- 
tion, while  patriotism  and  conviction  tugged  with 
equal  force  in  the  other.  But  though  some- 
thing of  the  inner  meaning  of  war  had  come 
home  to  Betsey,  this  most  poignant  experience, 
as  of  brother  raising  his  hand  against  brother, 
she  had  hitherto  been  spared.  The  influence 
of  Miss  Philipse  was  too  strong,  the  conviction 
of  her  infallibility  too  inviolate,  to  permit  any 
question  as  to  her  party  sympathies.  Besides, 
"Tory"  or  "rebel,"  she  remained  Miss  Philipse. 
It  was  not  that  Betsey's  faith  in  her  friend  was 
assailed  by  the  cruel  words  to  which  she  had 
been  forced  to  listen;  girlish  loyalty  is  not 
lightly  shaken.  But,  in  spite  of  herself,  the 
burning  eyes  of  Alexander  Hamilton  had  laid 
their  ukase  upon  her  thoughts,  as  well  as  on 


A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  45 

her  acts  and  speech,  as  they  were  wont  to 
coerce  the  wills  of  wiser  and  stronger  people 
than  Betsey. 

Truth  and  loyalty  were  gone  out  of  the  world 
when  Miss  Philipse  could  do  wrong. 

She  had  reached,  at  last,  St.  John's  Church, 
where,  in  spite  of  the  commands  of  Congress, 
the  King's  name  was  still  retained  in  the 
liturgy.  She  had  turned  from  the  river  road, 
and  was  galloping  along  the  driveway  leading 
to  Manor  Hall ;  there  was  a  glimpse  of  a  figure 
in  blue  and  buff  seated  in  the  embrasure  of 
the  drawing-room  window,  and  then  she  felt 
the  saddle  slipping  from  under  her  and  was 
flung  headlong,  her  head  striking  against  some- 
thing hard. 

When  she  recovered  consciousness,  it  was  to 
find  herself  on  a  big  four -posted  bed,  with  a 
high  tester,  and  a  valance  of  red  and  white 
India  patch.  A  turbaned  head  was  bending 
over  her  ankle  with  some  hot  embrocation,  and 
there  was  a  queer  pungent  smell,  as  of  some- 
thing burning,  in  the  air.  Opposite,  was  a  big 
fireplace  faced  with  quaint  Dutch  tiles  repre- 
senting scenes  from  Bible  history ;  an  over- 


46  A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

mantel,  wrought  with  arabesques  of  the  English 
rose,  was  surmounted  by  a  device  of  a  crowned 
lion,  rampant,  rising  from  a  coronet ;  as  Betsey's 
bewildered  gaze  strayed  to  the  familiar  Philipse 


crest,  all  at  once  her  thoughts  grew  clear.  A 
wave  of  recollection  spent  itself  in  the  cry,— 

"  General  Washington  !  " 

The  valance  was  pushed  aside,  and  Miss 
Philipse' s  face,  pale  and  anxious,  looked  down 
upon  her. 


A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  4/ 

"  Don't  try  to  move,  dear.  Your  foot  caught 
in  the  stirrup,  and  I  am  afraid  your  ankle  is 
sprained." 

"  General  Washington !  "  repeated  the  girl, 
mechanically,  her  thoughts  apparently  unable  to 
advance  beyond  the  point  where  everything  had 
ended  in  darkness. 

"  Yes,  darling,  it  was  General  Washington 
who  carried  you  here,  in  his  own  arms,"  said 
Miss  Philipse,  soothingly.  "He  saw  the  acci- 
dent from  the  drawing-room  window,  and  was 
instantly  on  the  spot.  Draw  the  bandage  tight, 
Rose,"  she  directed  to  the  slave  woman. 
"  Does  it  hurt  ? "  she  added,  bending  low  over 
the  bed. 

But  it  was  not  physical  pain  that  wrung  the 
moan  from  Betsey.  Her  glance  had  fallen  on 
the  clock  upon  the  mantel  shelf.  It  lacked  but 
five  minutes  of  five  o'clock  ! 

General  Washington's  life — the  fate  of  the 
country  —  hung  in  the  balance,  and  she  lay 
there,  helpless !  "  Not  a  word  to  Miss  Phil- 
ipse !  "  rang  the  masterful  voice. 

What,  keep  silence !  with  the  touch  of  that 
soft  hand  on  her  forehead,  with  the  beautiful 
eyes  looking  lovingly  and  pityingly  into  her 


48  A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

own  ?  Straightway  Betsey  forgot  the  lesson 
that  had  been  read  her  by  the  youthful  mas- 
ter whose  intuitive  insight  and  foresight  made 
him  one  of  the  marvels  of  the  age;  forgot 
that  those  who  were  older  and  wiser  than 
herself  had  taken  the  matter  in  hand  and 
that  it  was  now  her  part  to  obey ;  forgot 
the  momentous  issues  that  hung  upon  her 
action.  She  only  knew  that  truth  and  loyalty 
were  in  the  world,  and  Miss  Philipse  could  do 
no  wrong ! 

She  flung  her  arms  about  her  friend's  neck 
and  whispered.  Miss  Philipse  gave  a  slight 
start ;  a  strange,  set  look  came  into  her  face, 
and  then,  without  query  or  comment,  she  swiftly 
left  the  room.  Through  the  open  door,  Betsey 
heard  the  murmur  of  voices  in  the  hall  below. 
Then  she  distinguished  Colonel  Philipse's  tones, 
saying,— 

"  May  I  be  permitted  to  offer  a  glass  of  wine 
to  your  Excellency  ?  " 

"  Will  not  his  Excellency  allow  me  to  show 
him  the  view  from  the  staircase  landing  ? " 
suggested  Miss  Philipse. 

Their  footsteps  ascended  the  broad,  low 
stairs.  It  was  but  a  moment  that  they  lin- 


A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 


49 


gered  before  the  window,  for  other  matters 
claimed  General  Washington  than  a  fair 
scene  of  water  and  woodland.  Had  Miss 
Philipse  opportunity  to  voice  the  warning, 
with  her  brother  and  Colonel  Morris  intent 


in  the  hall  below  ?  Would  Colonel  Morgan 
be  on  time  —  would  he  see  the  signal  ? 
And  somewhere,  in  her  inmost  conscious- 
ness, the  warning  words  of  Alexander  Hamil- 
ton rang  with  dizzy  pertinacity.  Miss  Philipse 
and  the  three  gentlemen  went  into  the  dining- 


5<D  A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

room  and  their  voices  were  no  longer  audible 
from  above. 

The  wine  was  poured.  Frederick  Philipse 
raised  his  glass. 

"  His  Majesty,  the  King!  " 


IV. 


WASHINGTON  turned  and  placed  his  untasted 
glass  upon  the  window-seat.  As  he  did  so, 
there  was  an  almost  imperceptible  movement 
of  his  left  hand  toward  the  breast  -  pocket  of 
his  coat. 

Hardly  had  the  toast  left  the  lips  of  Fred- 
erick Philipse,  when  the  door  of  the  clock 
was  flung  violently  back  and  a  redcoated 
figure  stepped  through  the  aperture ;  another, 
and  yet  another,  till  half  a  score  of  armed 
men  stood  drawn  up  in  line,  passively  awaiting 
orders. 

Colonel  Morris  advanced  a  step  or  two. 
Something  held  him  from  farther  approach. 

"  I  trust  you  see  that  resistance  is  useless," 
he  said.  "  Mr.  Washington,  you  are  my 
prisoner !  " 

Washington  stood  silent  and  motionless,  one 
hand  behind  his  back,  the  other  resting  on  the 
hilt  of  his  sword.  But  he  was  not  good  for  his 
foes  to  look  upon. 

5« 


52  A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

It  was  not  alone  that  the  high  temper  nearly 
broke  loose  and  ran  uncontrolled  at  the  aspect 
of  the  broken  troth  plight  of  hospitality,  sacred 
to  the  Virginian  as  to  the  Norseman  of  old,  and 
of  the  cowardice  that  would  overwhelm  a  de- 
fenceless man  with  numbers.  At  the  sight  of 
the  armed  men,  there  had  arisen  the  fighting 
spirit,  before  which  even  savage  warriors  had 
quailed,  the  indomitable  eagerness  for  the  fray, 
the  love  of  battle  for  battle's  sake,  that  flowed 
in  his  veins  with  the  hot  blood  of  his  race  —  of 
those  far-off  Norman  de  Wessyngtons.  The 
veins  stood  out  on  his  temples,  the  blue-gray 
eyes  grew  clear  and  dark,  with  the  glint  of 
steel,  the  jaw  was  more  firmly  set,  the  massive 
figure  towered  with  the  force  that,  far  back  in 
the  centuries,  had  stood  in  the  forefront  of 
battle  and  wrested  for  itself,  by  the  spirit  of 
all  that  is  boldest  and  worthiest  in  man,  the 
"divine  right  "  of  kings  ! 

The  iron  will  had  reasserted  its  mastery. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  gentlemen,"  said 
Washington,  imperturbably,  "but  you  are  my 
prisoners !  " 

There  was  the  sudden  trample  of  many  feet 
in  the  hall  without,  and  into  the  room  trooped  a 


A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  53 

score  of  big  men,  in  fringed  hunting-shirts  and 
with  levelled  rifles. 

"  If  you  decide  to  remain,  I  will  give  you  all 
the  protection  in  my  power,"  said  Washington. 

Miss  Philipse  shook  her  head,  gravely  and 
sadly. 

"  How  could  I  accept  the  protection  of  one 
who  is  in  arms  against  my  King  ? "  she  an- 
swered, with  the  gentle  dignity,  the  sweet  and 
serious  simplicity,  that  belonged  to  her. 

"  Colonel  Morris  and  your  brother  shall  be 
released  on  their  paroles,"  continued  Washing- 
ton ;  "  but  I  should  not  be  doing  my  duty  if  I 
suffered  Colonel  Philipse  to  remain  at  Philips- 
burgh.  The  Hudson  is  the  key  to  the  whole 
situation  ;  I  cannot  endanger  its  possession." 

There  was  no  suggestion  of  rancor  in  his 
tones.  Although  treachery,  like  cowardice,  was 
something  he  could  not  understand,  his  mag- 
nanimity was  greater  than  his  scorn.  He  was 
pacing  the  room  to  and  fro,  as  was  his  habit 
when  deeply  perturbed. 

"  I  could  not  remain  in  a  land  where  the 
name  of  my  King  must  no  more  be  mentioned, 
even  in  prayer.  If  we  could  reach  our  friends 


54  A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

in  New  York,  they  would  assist  us  to  England. 
John  Williams,  our  faithful  steward,  will  remain 
here  and  care  for  the  estate,"  said  Miss  Philipse. 
She  spoke  quietly  and  collectedly,  as  though 
the  words  were  the  result  of  some  long  fore- 
seen contingency.  "  Years  ago,  it  was  foretold 
us,  '  Your  possessions  shall  pass  from  you, 
when  the  eagle  shall  despoil  the  lion  of  his 
mane.'  The  mysterious  words  have  grown 
clear ;  for  from  the  hour  you  drew  your  sword 
beneath  the  Cambridge  elm,  the  commander- 
in-chief  of  the  Continental  Army,  I  knew  that 
these  Colonies  were  lost  to  King  George  for- 
ever !  " 

They  had  withdrawn  to  the  upper  chamber 
to  hold  their  brief  parting  conference,  forgetting 
or  disregardful  of  the  child's  presence  on  the 
bed.  Too  full  of  love,  and  sorrow,  and  rever- 
ence for  tears ;  feeling  vaguely  that  she  was  in 
the  presence  of  something  that  was  beyond  her 
girlish  understanding,  Betsey  listened,  perforce, 
to  the  words  that  followed,  but  with  no  more 
taint  of  curiosity  than  the  guardian  angels  listen. 
She  might  have  let  the  valance  veil  her  sight, 
but  there  her  strength  failed  her.  Foreboding, 
soon  deepened  to  certainty,  lay  heavily  upon 


A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  55 

her  heart,  that  the  time  in  which  she  could  look 
upon  her  beloved  friend  was  fast  drawing  to  a 
close.  She  plucked  back  a  corner  of  the  cur- 
tain, and  gazed  hungrily  upon  every  detail  of  a 
picture  whose  memory  must  last  her  forever. 

Miss  Philipse  stood  at  one  end  of  the  fire- 
place, with  a  hand  resting  lightly  on  the  mantel 
shelf.  She  was  dressed  in  a  delicate  blue  and 
white  copperplate  calico,  with  a  muslin  apron, 
over  a  flounced  petticoat  of  blue  lutestring ;  a 
half  handkerchief,  knotted  with  straw  ribbons, 
was  folded,  kerchiefwise,  over  her  breast ;  her 
hair,  drawn  back  in  loose  waves  from  her  lovely 
pale  face,  was  partially  concealed  beneath  a 
frilled  muslin  cap,  from  which  soft  dark  curls 
drooped  low  in  the  neck  behind. 

Washington  stood  at  the  other  end  of  the  fire- 
place, in  the  prime  of  his  magnificent  manhood. 

"  You  have  saved  my  life  at  the  cost  of  your 
beloved  home,"  he  said,  at  length,  in  low, 
strained  tones. 

"  I  would  have  saved  your  life  at  the  cost  of 
my  own  !  "  returned  Mary  Philipse,  and,  for  the 
first  time,  there  was  a  tremor  in  her  voice. 

Her  downcast  eyes  were  raised  slowly,  as 
though  impelled  by  an  irresistible  impulse,  and 


56  A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

through  a  mist  met  his  own,  in  which  the  pen- 
sive look  had  deepened  to  sadness.  It  was  by 
a  supreme  effort  of  the  iron  will  that  Washing- 
ton held  the  distance  between  them. 

"  I  thought  to  find  you  the  wife  of  Roger 
Morris,"  he  said,  quietly. 

"  I  have  given  no  man  the  right  to  hold  me 
in  his  thoughts  as  wife,"  answered  Mary  Philipse, 
slowly  and  wonderingly. 

There  was  a  deadly  stillness  in  Washington's 
voice  when  its  tones  again  broke  the  silence. 

"  That  night  — do  you  remember  — we  danced 
the  minuet  together,  I  asked  your  permission  to 
wait  upon  you  on  my  return  from  Boston.  De- 
spite my  utmost  urgencies,  when  I  arrived 
again  at  the  house  of  Beverly  Robinson,  I  was 
three  little  days  too  late.  You  had  returned  to 
Manor  Hall,  and  your  sister  told  me  of  your 
betrothal  to  Roger  Morris,  yesterday's  con- 
summation of  a  long-standing  family  compact." 

"  Susannah  is  dead,"  said  Mary  Philipse, 
softly.  "  It  was  the  dearest  wish  of  her  heart 
to  see  the  Jumel  place  added  to  the  Manor  of 
Philipsburgh."  A  subtle  echo  rang  in  the  words 
that  lay  not  in  their  spoken  sense  —  "  May 
Heaven  forgive  her,  and  help  me  to  forgive 


A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  5/ 

her ! "  "  Shortly  after,  I  heard  of  your  marriage 
with  the  Widow  Custis,"  she  added,  presently. 

"  She  has  been  a  good  and  faithful  wife  to 
me.  God  knows  my  heart  has  never  strayed 
from  her,"  said  Washington,  simply. 

There  was  a  silence  that  was  long  in  the 
reckoning  that  is  not  of  minutes.  Then  each 
looked  into  the  other's  face,  as  they  look  who 
may  not  look  again,  and  to  the  words  that  were 
wrung  from  them,  the  child  and  the  angels 
listened. 

"  As  I  passed  beneath  the  gallery,  you  flung 
a  rose  to  me  !  " 

"  As  you  passed  out  of  sight,  you  waved  your 
hand  to  me  !  " 

There  was  no  tremor  in  the  gentle  tones,  and 
no  mist  dimmed  the  light  —  finer  and  purer  and 
higher  than  even  the  love  light  of  long  ago  —  in 
the  beautiful  eyes,  as  Mary  Philipse  spoke  her 
farewell  words. 

"  I  saw  you,  even  then,  one  on  whom  God 
had  laid  His  consecrating  hand.  I  see  you  now, 
the  great  soldier  who  shall  fight  this  war  to  a 
successful  issue.  I  shall  see  you  the  statesman, 
standing  at  the  head  of  the  nation  he  has  done 
more  than  any  other  man  to  make,  silent  amidst 


58  A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

every  difficulty,  firm  before  every  onslaught, 
aiming  at  no  other  ends  than  his  country's,  his 
God's  and  truth's.  May  my  prayers  shield 
you  and  aid  you,  even  in  your  high  estate ! 
More  than  all,  I  shall  see  you,  as  I  have  al- 
ways seen  you, — for  did  any  human  being  ever 
bate  one  jot  of  his  faith  in  you !  —  the  pure, 
high-minded  gentleman,  of  dauntless  courage 
and  stainless  honor.  God  grant  I  may  not  die, 
till  I  see  the  land,  for  which  you  have  fought 
and  toiled,  in  the  foremost  rank  of  nations." 

He  bent  his  head  low  over  her  outstretched 
hand. 

"  God  be  with  you,"  he  said. 


V. 


THE  neighborhood  of  the  lower  Hudson  was 
again  the  scene  of  active  warfare,  and  Betsey's 
continued  sojourn  at  the  summer  home  was  in- 
expedient, if  not  dangerous.  Fortunately,  at 
this  juncture,  General  Schuyler  was  appointed 
to  the  command  of  the  northern  army,  and  as 
his  headquarters  were  at  the  family  mansion 
in  Albany,  he  was  enabled  to  relieve  his  anxi- 
ety concerning  his  little  daughter  by  transfer- 
ring her  thither.  Here,  busied  with  the  many 
and  varied  cares  of  a  large  household,  three 
years  passed. 

Late  one  afternoon  in  midsummer,  Betsey's 
little  negro  maid,  Marian,  came  to  her  mistress's 
bedroom  with  the  tidings  that  a  guest  had 
arrived,  who  would  sup  and  spend  the  night. 

"  Let  the  squirrel  pasty  and  the  haunch  of 
cold  venison  be  served,"  directed  Betsey.  "  I 
prepared  a  sufficient  variety  of  cakes  this  morn- 
ing, and  there  is  an  abundance  of  hickory  and 
other  nuts  cracked.  Fresh  strawberries  and 


6O  A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

wild  grape  jelly  will  no  doubt  be  welcome  to  a 
traveller,  and  the  compote  of  our  ground  cherry 
may  not  be  amiss  to  one  who  knows  not  the 
flavor  of  that  rare  fruit.  You  heard  not  his 
name,  Marian  ? " 

"  He  is  called  Colonel  Hamilton,"  answered 
the  girl. 

Betsey  started  and  dropped  her  bunch  of 
keys,  which  in  housewifely  fashion  was  sus- 
pended from  her  girdle. 

"  Was  he  short  and  slight,  but  of  rare  grace 
and  activity  ;  had  he  burning  dark  eyes  —  eyes 
that  once  seen  could  never  be  forgotten  ? "  she 
questioned,  eagerly. 

"  That  is  he,"  returned  the  maid.  "  You 
know  him,  then?"  she  added,  with  deep  in- 
terest. 

The  little  slave  girl,  when  three  years  old, 
had  been  given  to  Betsey  as  a  birthday  present ; 
in  the  close  companionship  of  the  succeeding 
years,  there  had  grown  up  between  mistress 
and  maid  a  degree  of  familiarity  in  which,  on 
the  one  side,  a  care  and  protection  that  held  no 
suggestion  of  the  harsh  rule  of  authority  was 
met,  on  the  other,  by  a  single-hearted  devotion 
that  made  its  mistress's  interests  its  own. 


A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  6 1 

Betsey  had  matured  rapidly  in  the  past  three 
years  ;  her  domestic  responsibilities,  her  close 
contact  with  the  stirring  life  of  the  times,  as 
the  daughter  of  one  of  the  leaders  of  the  Revo- 
lution, the  frequent  visits  at  the  Schuyler  man- 
sion of  men  whose  minds  were  making  their 
impress  upon  the  age,  had  all  contributed  to 
this  result.  But  she  was  still  a  girl  in  years, 
and  the  need  of  a  youthful  confidant  was  some- 
times imperative. 

"  I  saw  him  but  once,"  she  answered  ;  "  't  was 
years  ago  ;  doubtless  he  has  forgotten.  Tell 
me,  Marian,  am  I  not  much  changed  since  we 
came  to  Albany  ? "  she  went  on,  drawing  her- 
self to  her  full  height.  "  I  am  taller,  my  face 
is  not  so  round  ;  this  fashion  of  dressing  my 
hair  over  a  cushion  gives  me  quite  a  different 
air,  does  it  not  ?  " 

Marian  regarded  her  mistress  dubiously. 

"  In  that  white  jaconet  muslin,  with  the  frill 
of  scalloped  lace  about  your  neck,  and  the 
bright  morone  sash,  you  look  just  as  you  did 
three  years  ago,"  she  answered,  decidedly.  "  In 
the  blue  brocade,  now,  you  are  such  a  stately 
dame  that  I  am  sure  no  one  would  know  you 
who  may  have  seen  you  in  New  York." 


62  A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

"Then  fetch  me  the  blue  brocade,  Marian," 
cried  Betsey.  "  Doubtless  Colonel  Hamilton 
comes  on  an  official  mission,  and  I  would  show 
him  all  the  attention  that  is  due  his  Excellency's 
special  envoy,  and  not  less  his  own  distin- 
guished merits,  for,  notwithstanding  his  youth, 
'tis  said  that  Alexander  Hamilton  does  the 
thinking  of  the  times." 

Her  toilet  completed,  Betsey  regarded  herself 
critically  in  the  mirror.  The  blue  brocade,  with 
its  pointed  stomacher,  opened  in  front  over  a 
long  trained  skirt  of  crimson  satin,  without 
vanity,  became  her  right  well;  the  green  mo- 
rocco slippers  with  the  high  heels  added  a  good 
inch  to  her  height,  and  the  two  little  half-moon 
patches  —  one  on  her  cheek  and  the  other  on 
her  forehead  —  gave  an  air  of  the  mode  that 
would  surely  dispel  any  possible  vague  recollec- 
tion of  a  dirty-faced  little  girl.  But  — 

"  I  fear  I  do  not  look  so  very  old,  after  all ; 
not  nearly  so  old  as  did  Aunt  Schuyler  in  this 
very  gown,"  she  sighed. 

"Madam    Schuyler  was  a  very   old   lady  — 
nearly  fifty  years  old  when  she  died,"  rejoined 
Marian.       "  But    perhaps    I    made    a    mistake 
in  suggesting  the  brocade,"  she  added,  regard- 


A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  63 

ing  her  mistress  critically.  "Your  eyes  are 
brighter  than  usual,  and  your  cheeks  are  very 
red !  " 

"  I  will  endeavor  to  add  ten,  twenty  years  to 
my  age  by  the  dignity  of  my  demeanor,  and  the 
gravity  of  my  speech  !  The  late  surrender  of 
Burgoyne  and  the  proceedings  of  Congress  will 
afford  becoming  themes.  'Tis  the  fashion  in 
Albany  not  to  rise  in  receiving  company ;  in 
New  York,  they  are  wont  to  greet  a  guest  in 
different  wise.  I  would  not  that  Colonel  Ham- 
ilton think  we  know  nothing  of  courtly  ways  in 
our  little  provincial  town."  Betsey  swept  a  low 
curtsy  to  her  own  reflection  in  the  glass. 

"  Colonel  Hamilton  comes,  then,  from  New 
York  ?  "  queried  Marian. 

"  He  came  there,  at  an  early  age,  from 
Jamaica." 

"Jamaica  !  " 

Marian  dropped  the  jaconet  gown  she  was 
smoothing  out,  and  her  eyeballs  rolled  up  till  a 
ghastly  extent  of  white  appeared. 

"  Why  should  not  Colonel  Hamilton  be  born 
in  Jamaica,  or  anywhere  else  if  he  so  pleases !  " 
exclaimed  Betsey,  impatiently. 

"Jamaica  —  bad  place!"  chattered  the  girl. 


64  A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

"  You  foolish  child !  Bad  people  go  to 
Jamaica,  they  do  not  come  from  there !  "  cried 
Betsey. 

But  this  was  too  fine  a  distinction  for  the 
little  slave  girl's  comprehension.  Her  knees 
shook  beneath  her,  and  her  face  had  a  hideous 
livid  pallor. 

"I  am  ashamed  of  you,  Marian!"  said  Bet- 
sey, severely.  "Could  you  not  read  in  Colonel 
Hamilton's  eyes  that  he  would  wittingly  do  no 
one  harm,  even  in  thought  ?  Those  eyes  belie 
him  sorely,  if,  despite  the  occasional  self-suffi- 
ciency of  youth,  he  could  ever  be  aught  but  the 
just  and  generous  gentleman." 

But  Marian,  muttering  something  that  may 
have  been  either  an  attempt  at  self-exculpation, 
or  an  incoherent  expression  of  terror,  slipped 
from  the  room.  Betsey,  supposing  she  had 
gone  to  the  kitchen,  to  aid,  as  usual,  in  the 
preparation  of  the  supper,  soon  followed.  Ab- 
sorbed in  her  own  thoughts,  she  did  not  notice 
the  absence  of  the  usual  servants  about  the 
hall  or  corridors.  To  her  surprise,  the  kitchen 
was  empty !  A  survey  of  the  outbuildings,  and 
a  glance  from  their  several  windows,  revealed 
no  one  in  sight.  The  recollection  of  Marian's 


A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  65 

fright  dispelled  the  momentary  mystification. 
The  servants  had  taken  flight  in  a  body,  before 
the  spell  of  that  terrible  word,  Jamaica ! 

General  Schuyler  had  been  suddenly  called 
away  on  some  official  errand,  leaving  his  guest 
on  the  portico  to  await  his  early  return.  The 
portico  at  the  Flats  —  as  the  Schuyler  estate 
was  called  —  was  the  most  characteristic  feature 
of  the  house.  The  dining-room  —  or  eating- 
room,  as  it  was  usually  called  —  was  a  sunless 
apartment,  hung  with  Scripture  paintings  of  a 
gloomy  tenor,  and  was  used  only  when  the 
exigencies  of  the  weather  compelled.  The 
portico  was  not  only,  from  early  summer, 
the  living-room  of  the  family,  but  was  also 
drawing-room  and  dining-room.  It  was  open  at 
the  sides,  while  overhead  a  light  latticework, 
covered  with  the  luxurious  growth  of  a  wild 
grapevine,  afforded  protection  from  the  sun. 
A  seat  ran  around  the  sides,  and  on  a  long, 
narrow  shelf  above  a  number  of  birds'  nests 
were  arranged.  Numerous  birds  of  a  bright 
cinnamon  brown  color  were  darting  hither  and 
thither  in  the  flickering  sunlight,  or  rustling 
about  in  the  foliage  overhead ;  others  were  glid- 
ing over  the  table  with  a  butterfly  or  a  cherry 


66  A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

in  their  bills  with  which  to  feed  their  young, 
who  were  chirping  from  the  nests  on  the  shelf, 
or  from  out  the  shelter  of  the  leafy  roof.  Sev- 
eral of  the  tame  little  creatures  were  hopping 
about  the  bench  by  the  stranger's  side,  or 
venturing  inquisitively  upon  his  knees  and 
arms.  He  sat  motionless,  watching  their  move- 
ments intently. 

The  chirping  of  innumerable  insects  mingled 
with  the  twittering  of  the  wrens  ;  the  lowing 
of  the  cows,  wending  their  homeward  way  from 
the  common,  sounded  from  beyond  the  garden  ; 
leading  thence  to  the  village  street  was  a  long 
avenue,  bordered  by  Morella  cherry-trees,  which 
were  evidently  regarded  by  the  birds  as  their 
especial  storehouse.  A  wren,  with  a  particularly 
fine  cherry  dangling  from  its  bill,  let  go  its  hold 
prematurely,  and  the  fruit  fell  into  Hamilton's 
hand,  as  it  lay  palm  upward,  upon  his  knee  ; 
involuntarily  the  hand  closed,  and  the  wren, 
instantly  lighting  upon  it,  cocked  his  head  to 
one  side,  and,  in  a  storm  of  vituperative  twitter- 
ings, gave  vent  to  his  anger  and  indignation  at 
this  bold-faced  robbery.  Hamilton  threw  back 
his  head  with  the  gesture  that  betrayed  his 
youth,  and  laughed  aloud. 


A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 


67 


A  charming  figure  appeared  in  the  doorway 
in  a  stately  garb  that  accentuated  the  graceful 
outlines  and  girlish  bloom  of  its  wearer.  Betsey's 
steps  were  nicely  balanced,  and  her  face  was 
preternaturally  grave,  with  two  little  frowning 


lines  between  the  brows,  brought  there  partly 
by  the  provoking  domestic  exigency,  and  partly 
by  the  difficulty  of  managing  a  train  whilst 
carrying  a  pasty  that  plainly  needed  both  hands 
for  its  support. 


68  A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

"  Let  me  help  you !  "  cried  Hamilton,  and 
sprang  to  her  aid. 

One  on  each  side,  the  pasty  was  set  upon  the 
table.  Hamilton  fell  back  a  step  or  two. 

"  I  have  the  honor  of  addressing  Miss 
Schuyler  ? "  he  said,  with  a  low  bow.  "We 
have  met  before." 

The  stately  curtsy  seemed  ignominiously  out 
of  place.  Betsey's  equanimity,  already  sorely 
tried,  was  unequal  to  a  reply  in  courtly  phrase, 
and  only  her  native  honesty  dictated  her  answer. 

"  I  thought  —  I  hoped  you  had  forgotten  !  " 

"I  had  not  forgotten,"  returned  Hamilton, 
quietly.  "  It  was,  indeed,  my  unofficial  mission 
to  Albany  to  tell  you  that  I  erred  grievously  at 
our  former  meeting,"  he  went  on,  in  his  simple, 
direct  fashion,  the  exponent  of  a  magnanimity 
of  which  only  a  proud,  upright  nature,  self- 
convicted  of  error,  is  capable.  "  I  crave  your 
pardon  for  the  wrong  I  did  your  friend." 

But  a  hard,  cold  look  had  come  into  Betsey's 
loyal  blue  eyes  that  boded  ill  for  Hamilton's 
petition.  And  he,  partly  because  of  the  pure 
integrity  of  a  nature  that  could  not  rest  content 
with  a  wrong  unrighted,  though  committed  only 
in  thought,  partly  because  of  the  imperious 


A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  69 

will  that  brooked  no  opposition  to  its  ungar- 
nished  yea  or  nay,  went  on  in  the  tones,  irresist- 
ibly winning,  that  could  wring  assent  from  the 
most  stubborn  adversary. 

"  Philip  told  me  how  she  saved  General 
Washington's  life,  knowing  well  what  the  cost 
would  be.  All  that  night  I  heard  his  Excellency 
pacing  his  room  ;  even  I,  his  most  trusted 
friend,  dared  not  approach.  Afterward,  as  you 
know,  when  Colonel  Philipse  broke  his  parole 
and  was  attainted  for  treason,  she  was  unjustly 
included  in  the  sentence,  and  the  Manor  of 
Philipsburgh  was  confiscated  by  Congress.  I 
was  not  behind  General  Washington  in  the 
endeavor  to  right  the  cruel  wrong.  Letter  after 
letter  was  written  ;  but  in  vain  his  Excellency 
expostulated,  urged,  condemned  ;  in  vain  I  put 
his  representations  into  the  strongest,  most 
convincing  words  at  my  command.  I  journeyed 
to  Philadelphia  to  hold  personal  conference  with 
Congress  ;  but  in  its  fatuity,  its  self-sufficiency, 
its  bat -like  opposition  to  every  measure  pro- 
posed by  Washington,  because,  forsooth,  they 
fancy  him  aiming  at  supreme  power,  —  Miss 
Philipse,  the  one  woman  out  of  the  records  of 
the  time,  must  stand,  forever,  as  traitor!  Be- 


7O  A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

lieve  me,  all  that  man  could  do  I  have  done. 
If  I  judged  harshly,  precipitately,  cruelly,  if 
love  of  my  friend  made  me,  for  the  moment, 
unlovely  toward  yours,  will  you  not  forgive  me 
for  a  horrid,  hateful  boy  ?  " 

He  spoke  with  the  clear,  calm  reason,  the 
temperate  self-assertion  of  maturity ;  yet  it  was 
less*  the  direct  appeal  of  his  words  than  that 
which  rang  in  his  tones,  —  the  flawless  gen- 
erosity of  a  nature  incapable  of  harboring  re- 
sentment, by  which  Betsey  stood  all  at  once 
convicted  before  the  court  of  conscience  of  an 
unjust  and  paltry  grudge ;  and  the  echo  of  her 
own  childish,  passionate  words  added  to  the 
weight  of  the  self-accusation. 

But  the  rankling  memory  of  the  laugh  at  the 
ragged,  dirty -faced  little  girl  was  not  readily 
assuaged.  Forgiveness  might  come  by  and  by  ; 
but  for  the  present,  —  well,  for  the  present,  she 
must  set  before  him  the  daintiest  fare  her 
housewifely  stores  afforded,  and  herself  serve 
him  at  table  as  an  honored  guest. 

"  Our  servants  have  fled,"  she  said,  demurely. 
"  My  father  will  soon,  doubtless,  be  able  to 
persuade  them  to  return  ;  but,  meantime,  will 
you  pardon  me  if  household  duties  call  me  ? " 


A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  /I 

"  They  have  not  run  away  ?  "  queried  Hamil- 
ton, perhaps  with  some  vague  reminiscence  of 
the  life  of  the  negro  slaves  in  the  West  Indies. 

"  I  think  they  have  gone  no  further  than  a 
clearing  in  the  Bush,  a  few  miles  from  here, 
where  a  settler  has  been  wont  to  receive  them 
kindly.  Our  people  are  warmly  attached  to 
us  ;  it  is  seldom,  indeed,  that  any  one  in  Albany 
has  an  unruly  servant  ;  but  when  all  gentle 
means  have  failed  to  win  such  a  one  to  better 
courses,  he  is  sold  to  Jamaica.  And  the  dread 
of  that  fate  amongst  the  negroes  is  so  great 
that  they  have  to  be  carefully  watched  on 
the  boat  to  New  York,  lest  they  attempt  self- 
destruction.  Jamaica  stands  to  them  for  I 
know  not  what  of  horror ;  so  —  they  are  very 
ignorant,  very  foolish  —  when  they  heard  that 
you  were  from  Jamaica  —  " 

"  Instead  of  their  going  to  Jamaica,  it  was 
Jamaica  coming  to  them,"  finished  Hamilton. 
"  I  crave  your  pardon,  again,  for  having  unwit- 
tingly brought  such  panic  into  your  house- 
hold." 

It  might  be  that  she  had  erred  as  grievously 
as  the  servants  in  her  conception  of  Alexander 
Hamilton.  Perhaps  she  would  forgive  him, 


72  A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

quite,  before  his  departure.  She  was  glad  he 
was  to  remain  but  one  night  —  almost. 

The  following  morning  Betsey  was  early 
upon  the  portico.  It  was  her  custom,  before  the 
round  of  daily  household  duties  began,  to  gather 
a  supply  of  cherries,  and  place  a  portion  beside 
each  nest  on  the  shelf  ;  the  chirping  and  twitter- 
ing that  followed  told  that  her  ministrations 
were  appreciated.  She  had  scarcely  finished 
her  task,  when  Hamilton  appeared,  booted  and 
spurred  for  an  early  journey. 

"It  has  been  an  unusually  hot  summer,"  ex- 
plained Betsey  ;  "  our  wrens'  wings  have  drooped 
sadly  with  the  heat  and  the  difficulty  of  finding 
food  ;  so  I  have  been  helping  them.  Hark,  do 
you  hear  that ! "  she  exclaimed,  eagerly,  and 
held  up  her  finger  to  enjoin  silence. 

It  was  the  notes  of  a  bird,  exquisitely  modu- 
lated, rising  from  a  few  single  notes,  seemingly 
shaken  from  its  throat  like  dewdrops  from  the 
heart  of  a  rose,  and  swelling  into  a  sustained 
volume  of  melody,  of  wonderful  compass  and 
variety ;  the  song  died  away  as  it  had  begun,  in 
the  crystal  clear,  scattered  notes. 

"  It  is  unlike  the  song  of  any  bird  I  ever 
heard  !  "  cried  Betsey,  breathlessly.  "  It  sang 


"'HARK,    DO    YOU    HEAR    THAT?'" 


A    LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  75 

for  hours  in  the  moonlight  last  night,  as  I  lay 
awake." 

"  It  is  a  mocking-bird,"  explained  Hamilton. 
"  I  did  not  know  that  it  built  so  far  north  as 
this  latitude.  That  is  its  call  note,"  he  added, 
as  a  single  long,  mournful  note  sounded  from 
the  upper  branches  of  a  tree  in  the  garden. 

"There  must  be  a  nest  there  !  " 

"  Doubtless;  'tis  the  breeding  season." 

"  I  wish  the  tree  were  not  so  high.  I  should 
much  like  to  see  the  eggs,"  said  Betsey,  wistfully. 

"  I  will  get  one  for  you,"  volunteered  Ham- 
ilton. 

"  Oh,  but  indeed  you  must  not  ! "  cried 
Betsey.  "  We  never  allow  our  birds  to  be 
molested  ;  they  always  know  if  an  egg  has  been 
touched,  and  are  most  indignant  at  the  outrage. 
I  am  afraid  the  mocking-bird  would  leave  us  if 
its  nest  were  disturbed.  Besides,  you  might 
get  hurt  yourself,  and  —  and  his  Excellency 
would  be  so  very  sorry !  " 

"My  spurs  will  serve  as  spike  nails,"  returned 
Hamilton  ;  "  there  are  usually  five  eggs.  They 
can  surely  spare  us  one." 

"  I  should  like  much  to  have  that  glorious 
song  where  I  could  hear  it  through  our  long 


76  A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

winter.  Perhaps,  if  I  had  the  egg—  "  hesitated 
Betsey. 

Hamilton  was  already  in  the  garden.  He 
soon  returned  and  placed  a  small  egg  in  Bet- 
sey's eagerly  outstretched  hand. 

"  How  pretty,  how  charming  it  is  !  "  she  cried. 
"  See  how  the  lovely  pale  green  is  flecked  and 
splashed  with  the  dainty  brown !  " 

"  Blue,  is  it  not  ? "  queried  Hamilton. 

His  head  and  Betsey's  nearly  touched  as  they 
bent  together  over  the  egg.  Very  gently, 
Hamilton  placed  his  hand  beneath  hers  that 
he  might  more  closely  scrutinize  the  debated 
color. 

"  I  think  it  is  green,"  repeated  Betsey,  weigh- 
ing her  words.  "  In  this  light,  so,  is  it  not  ?  " 
Her  blue  eyes  were  raised,  gravely,  to  Hamil- 
ton's face. 

"  In  Albany,  blue  is  the  fairer  color,"  he 
answered,  smiling.  "  I  have  not  heard  a  mock- 
ing-bird since  I  left  Jamaica,"  he  added. 

"  Jamaica  must  be  a  beautiful  land  with  such 
music  to  fill  the  nights,"  said  Betsey,  with  a 
gentle  inflection  in  her  voice  that  held  more 
than  the  spoken  query ;  and  it  was  tone  rather 
than  words  that  Hamilton  answered. 


A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  77 

The  sunlight  flickered  through  the  foliage 
overhead,  dancing  over  her  simple  muslin  gown, 
and  touching  the  broad,  fair  forehead,  from 
which  the  little  sunbonnet  had  been  pushed  in 
the  heat.  Now  and  again  a  wren  lit  on  her 
shoulder,  or  hopped  upon  her  arm,  with  grate- 
ful twitterings.  Hamilton  stood  by  her  side, 
his  hand  still  aiding  hers  to  support  the  weight 
of  the  egg. 

"  To  me,  as  to  your  servants,  Jamaica  was 
ever  the  land  of  slavery,"  he  made  answer, 
gravely.  "  While  I  would  willingly  have  risked 
my  life,  though  not  my  character,  to  exalt  my 
station,  my  fortune  condemned  me  to  the 
grovelling  occupation  of  a  clerk.  As  I  was 
but  twelve  years  of  age,  I  realized  that  my 
youth  stood  in  the  way  of  immediate  prefer- 
ment, but  I  determined  to  prepare  the  way  for 
futurity." 

"  And  the  time  came  ? "  questioned  Betsey, 
softly. 

"  The  time  came  at  last,"  assented  Hamilton, 
with  his  transfiguring  smile.  "  My  relatives 
deemed  a  slight  essay  from  my  pen  on  one  of 
our  tropical  hurricanes  not  unworthy  of  com- 
mendation, and  they  decided  that  I  should  be 


78  A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID. 

given  the  advantages  of  an  education.  Accord- 
ingly, I  took  ship  for  Boston,  and  soon  after 
arrived  in  New  York  and  entered  King's  Col- 
lege. Fifteen  months  or  less  would  have 
sufficed  to  carry  me  through  the  course,  but 
the  war  broke  out,  and  I  left  my  books  to  offer 
my  services  to  the  provincial  cause." 

"  Then  you  are  quite,  quite  alone  ?  "  queried 
Betsey,  with  unfeigned  interest  and  sympathy. 

"  My  mother  died  early,  and  my  father,  whom 
I  never  knew,  left  me  to  the  care  of  distant 
relatives.  As  a  child,  I  had  but  one  companion 
of  my  own  age." 

"It  is  sad  to  be  alone,"  said  Betsey,  seriously. 
"  Never  did  children,  I  am  sure,  grow  up  in 
such  joyous  companionship  as  we  in  Albany. 
From  the  time  we  were  five  or  six  years  old, 
we  were  divided  into  little  companies  of  some 
twenty  boys  and  girls,  who  shared  with  one 
another  all  their  games  and  diversions,  all  their 
joys  and  sorrows  —  if  indeed,  we  then  knew 
aught  of  sorrow !  We  seemed  like  the  mem- 
bers of  one  large  family.  Indeed,  I  think  there 
is  scarce  a  person  in  Albany  who  is  not  called 
'  cousin '  by  every  one  else,  although  it  may  oft 
happen  that  the  kinship  is  somewhat  remote  or 
obscure." 


A   LOYAL    LITTLE    MAID.  79 

"  I  have  no  cousins  of  my  own,"  said  Hamil- 
ton. "  Why  should  not  we  be  cousins  ?  I 
should  like  to  be  your  cousin,"  he  repeated, 
eagerly. 

"  I  am  sure  I  should  like  very  well  to  have 
you  for  my  cousin,"  returned  Betsey,  simply. 

Impetuous  in  his  wooing  as  over  his  books, 
or  in  storming  a  redoubt,  Hamilton  raised  her 
hand  to  his  lips. 

"  You  don't  hate  me  —  now  ?  "  he  questioned, 
softly. 

"  Not  now,"  she  whispered. 

In  the  following  spring,  Hamilton  journeyed 
to  Albany  again,  this  time  upon  a  mission  of  a 
different  character.  He  and  Betsey  parted,  not 
as  cousins,  but  as  betrothed  lovers  ;  and  in 
December  of  the  same  year,  at  the  little  Dutch 
church  by  the  river,  Betsey  Schuyler  was  mar- 
ried to  Alexander  Hamilton. 

THE    END. 


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